


Don't Even Stop For Red Lights

by fardareismai



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gun Violence, Hospital Scenes, Political AU, Political Themes, Violence, West Wing AU, belle is communications director, elsa is deputy communications director, emma is chief of staff, granny is secretary to the president, jasmine is press secretary, leroy is the president's body man, no graphic gore, regina is VP, zelena is deputy chief of staff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 01:44:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11749506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fardareismai/pseuds/fardareismai
Summary: The cast of Once Upon a Time set into The West Wing episodes In The Shadow of Two Gunmen I & II.





	Don't Even Stop For Red Lights

Emma felt like she was floating half a foot off the ground as they made their way out of the museum. At the front of the pack, Mary Margaret cracked jokes with Leroy, clearly feeling at least as good as Emma did.

Emma glanced around at her colleagues. Zelena was laughing at something that Elsa had just said, and even quiet, thoughtful Belle had a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Jasmine put a hand on Emma's shoulder and grinned.

"She did great tonight," Jasmine said gesturing at Mary Margaret, and Emma nodded.

Out the front door she took a deep breath of the cool, evening air. It wasn't any quieter outside than it had been inside- all along the path to their cars, people shouted and waved from a roped-off area, hoping to touch the closest thing to royalty that America has.

Mary Margaret had told them all that she didn't want to speak to people on the rope line tonight- she wanted to go straight home and watch a romantic comedy that was showing on cable that night, never mind that she owned it on DVD.

"It's what normal people do, Emma," she had said as Emma had held her jacket for her friend. "Normal people watch whatever comes on TV in the evening and have a glass of wine, and that's what I'm doing tonight. No rope lines."

"No, Madam President," Emma had said, sharing a look with Leroy and Mrs. Lucas, both of whom were standing in the doorway of the Oval Office, carefully hiding their smiles.

Mary Margaret Blanchard-Nolan couldn't resist a rope line, and they all knew it, so it came as no surprise when she altered her course, like a magnet pulled in the direction of the screaming throng. Mulan and Merida, the two secret service agents assigned to her for the evening, didn't falter in their step as they followed her.

Emma grinned at Zelena, who was laughing at the president, now shaking hands with what appeared to be half of the junior class from George Washington University- the female half. The first female president of the United States had a strong rapport with women.

"Didn't she want to watch Notting Hill or some such?" Zelena asked, stepping up beside Emma.

"I'm sure TNT will show it again soon," Emma said. "No need to hurry her along."

It had been months since they'd felt this good. Maybe years. Not since the night that Mary Margaret had won the presidency and they'd begun the horrible, grueling, soul-destroying process of actually running the country. Their team was back to where they belonged- returning hope to a country torn apart by partisanship and scandal, and tonight had been a ringing refresher of what the United States had voted for just eighteen months before.

Zelena moved off to speak to someone, and Emma pulled her phone from her pocket to see if her assistant, Killian, had called. He would do, if something important had come up.

It wasn't like the movies- a burst of noise and light and screaming and pain. There was no sound, no light, not even pain. The only way that Emma realized that anything had happened to her was because she found, without realizing it, that she was on the ground, when she hadn't been before.

Her eyes searched the kaleidoscope of color and movement that was the crowd, trying to find the President, to assure herself that she was alright, but her eyes found nothing recognizable, and closed after a long minute.

~?~?~?~?~

" _Senator-"_

" _The Democratic Party cannot define itself by identity politics!" Regina continued, over top of Emma's objections._

" _Senator-"_

" _We need a strong economic message for every citizen, not to segment ourselves by men or women, white or black."_

" _I agree with you, Senator Mills," Emma said, finally managing to get a full sentence out, "but to go to Iowa and not even mention that every Planned Parenthood in the state was run out on a rail by the last administration? It's idiotic!"_

" _Ms. Swan," Regina Mills said, shooting a severe look at her insubordinate advisor._

" _Planned Parenthood is a hot-button issue," Sidney Glass said, adjusting his notes prissily as he did. Emma knew he enjoyed setting her down. Regina turned to her far more often than she did to him these days, though Emma had many fewer years in the political fray. "It's extremely divisive, even among Democrats-"_

" _Because the Democratic Party has completely lost its spine," Emma muttered._

_Sidney ignored this. "There's no reason to get bogged down in the abortion fight, not at this stage in the proceedings."_

" _You_ do  _believe in the right to safe and affordable abortions for every woman, not to mention the other healthcare services provided by Planned Parenthood, don't you?" Emma directed her challenge to Regina, rather than to Sidney._

" _The Senator gets an A+ for her voting record from Planned Parenthood. She is a strong supporter of all women's health issues," Graham said. He wasn't nearly as officious as Sidney, but he was equally unwilling to question Regina._

" _So why not lead with our strengths?" Emma was practically shouting now. "Why pussyfoot around everything you've done for women?"_

" _Because women are only half of the voting populace, Emma," Regina snapped. "We cannot afford to alienate white, working class men who may not be pro-choice."_

_Emma opened her mouth to continue the argument, but Regina's watch gave a beep._

" _I've got a vote," Regina said, with a glance down. "Everyone, we'll resume this tomorrow. Emma, come walk with me."_

_Emma stood and followed the Senator to the door, and out into the halls of the Congressional office building._

" _You don't seem to be having fun, Emma," Regina said, conversationally, as they reached the stairs._

_Emma sighed. "Senator Mills, you are basically a lock for the nominee to be the first woman president of the United States, and you won't say anything about women for fear of scaring off white men who likely won't be willing to vote for a woman anyway. I just… I don't understand it. If not now, when?"_

" _When I'm president, Emma," Regina said, laying a hand on Emma's arm. "When I become president, we'll do all those things in your head, I promise. Now I've got a vote."_

_Emma sighed again as she watched the Senator walk away- the Great Hope of the Democratic party in a tasteful pantsuit and sky-high heels._

" _Emma Swan."_

_The voice came from behind, and Emma jumped and whirled to face it, then relaxed immediately as she recognized the grinning woman leaning against the wall._

" _Ruby Lucas, as I live and breathe!" Emma said, grinning and opening her arms for the hug she knew was coming._

_Ruby didn't disappoint, and clasped her old roommate in a quick hug, then pulled back and looked her over, one perfectly-plucked eyebrow raised._

" _You're looking great, Ems. Politics agrees with you."_

_Emma snorted. "Maybe, but I'm not sure I agree with it."_

" _Life with the gentlewoman from Maine not going well?" Ruby asked, her red-painted mouth twisting to hide a smile._

_Emma glanced around. "Not here. Let me take you to lunch."_

" _No," Ruby said, a light of mischief in her eye, "let_ me  _take_ you  _to lunch. I have a proposal for you."_

~?~?~?~?~

Killian gathered papers from the desk of the office just off from the Oval, humming to himself. He'd watched the President's speech at the museum with the other aids and staffers in the bullpen, rolling their eyes at her terrible jokes and cheering when she had asserted, in the end, that the time had come for hope and unity.

That had been forty-five minutes ago, though the President and her team had claimed they would be back within half an hour. No one was surprised they were late.

Killian stuck his head into the outer office where the direct aids to the president- Leroy and Mrs. Lucas- worked.

"No word from the conquering heroes then, Mrs. Lucas?" he asked.

She looked up from her computer and rolled her eyes. "She says she's not going to spend any time on the rope line, but we all knew she couldn't stay away. I'm sure they haven't even left…"

Mrs. Lucas continued talking, but Killian's attention was drawn away from her by the images on the muted television in the office. A breaking news update and, if he wasn't mistaken, the images they were showing were of the museum where the President had just been speaking, the presidential motorcade still parked at the entrance.

"Mrs. Lucas," Killian said, though she didn't seem to hear as she carried on talking. "Mrs. Lucas!" he cried, "where is the remote?"

She seemed finally to register his upset and quickly turned on the sound on the television.

"Shots fired at the museum where the president had just been speaking to students of George Washington University-" the newscaster was saying.

Mrs. Lucas and Killian didn't wait for more information, the pair of them were running up the hallway to the White House exits and their cars.

~?~?~?~?~

" _I want you to go to New Hampshire," Ruby said, once their drinks were served. "I want you to attend Mary Margaret Blanchard-Nolan's town hall in Nashua."_

_Emma frowned. "Ruby, I work for Regina Mills."_

" _I know."_

" _Why would I go to New Hampshire in the middle of the work week to listen to some blue-blood Midwest governor wax idealistic? Regina is going to be the next President of the United States."_

_Ruby smirked. "Who needs to hold an election? Emma Swan has already declared victory."_

_Emma glared. "The Republicans screwed the pooch the last four years. No one wants another Republican president. The_ Republicans  _don't want a Republican president right now. Not after-" she flapped her hand in the air to indicate the chaos that had been sown by the current occupant of the White House. "Regina's it. She's the future."_

" _Is she?" Ruby's face had lost the sarcasm and irony, and was finally serious. "Emma, you know a real thing better than anyone else I know. If you tell me that Regina is that, I'll believe you, and you don't have to go to New Hampshire. But… if she isn't…"_

_Emma couldn't meet her friend's eyes. "What interest do you have in politics all of a sudden?"_

_Ruby snorted. "None at all, never have, unless one of the candidates threatens to overturn Obergefell v. Hodges, and no one is taking that one on just now, thank goodness. No, it's not me asking you to go, it's Granny, and you owe her this."_

_Emma nodded. She owed Granny a lot more- the woman who takes you in after you run away from foster care for the last time gets to ask a few unreasonable things of you, she figured._

" _Yeah, okay," she said, finally, "I'll go."_

" _Thanks, Em. It's been too long since you've been to see Granny, anyway."_

_Emma smiled, and their lunches were set before them. Emma took a bite of her sandwich and chewed, considering something._

" _Do you know her, Rubes?" she asked once she had swallowed. "Blanchard-Nolan, I mean. Have you met her?"_

_Ruby smiled. "Yeah, I know her. You're gonna like her, Ems. I really think you are."_

~?~?~?~?~

The hospital where the president had been taken seemed a labyrinth to Killian. His face wasn't one that ended up on cameras, so no one seemed to recognize him as he walked the halls, panic held at bay by a thread.

"Killian!"

He spun at the voice and his knees nearly buckled in relief to finally see a familiar face.

"David!" he said, rushing forward to lay a hand on the other man's shoulder. "I mean-" he said, belatedly remembering that he was speaking to the First Gentleman, "-Mr. Nolan."

David waved this ceremony away and pulled Killian into a tight hug which Killian accepted gratefully. Once they let go, Killian looked into the other man's eyes carefully.

"The President?" he said, hardly able to articulate the words through the ball of ice in his stomach. "Is she-?"

"She's going to be fine," David said, nodding, though Killian could feel the low tremor suffusing his body where he had his hand on his friend's shoulder. "She… she was hit, but it wasn't… it wasn't serious. She's in surgery now, but it's… it's just stitches and… and checking." He sucked in a breath, and Killian wrapped an arm around him, when it seemed like he might crumple. "They say she's going to be fine," David continued after a moment, once his feet were beneath him again.

"Thank God," Killian breathed, feeling the worst of his tension leave him. "Thank all the gods," he repeated on a sigh. "We saw the report in the office and we rushed over. Granny rode along with me and came in while I was parking-" he was losing all of the formality of names they maintained so carefully in the West Wing, "-I'm sure she's already found you. I left my ID on my desk, so I had to find a Secret Service agent who knows me to get in and-"

"Killian!" David cut across his relieved babble. "Killian, Emma was hit."

The fuzzy whiteness that had retreated from the edges of his vision upon hearing that the President would be okay suddenly rushed back in, reducing Killian's world to a pinprick. His ears filled with the sound of rushing blood, and this time it was David who had to wrap an arm around him to keep him from hitting the floor.

Killian allowed himself to be led to a seat and gently lowered into it. By the time the First Gentleman had taken the seat beside him, his deafness seemed to have receded, though not the unreality of the situation.

"Hit," he said, vaguely. "Hit with what?"

David put a hand on his shoulder. "A-a bullet. Emma was shot, Killian. She was hit in the chest and she's in surgery now."

"I-" Killian said, then trailed off, not sure what he thought he was going to say.

"It's okay," David said. "Come on. There's a room where the rest of the staff is waiting. I'll take you there. Come on."

~?~?~?~?~

_Ruby's words echoed in Emma's mind as Governor Nolan gave her closing remarks: "you know a real thing better than anyone I know."_

_Emma did have an uncanny ear for the truth, even in a politician. She'd gone looking for it in Washington, and had found it occasionally. When she did, she'd put body and soul into seeing the person who spoke it rise as far as they could go._

_She hadn't heard it from Regina in months._

_She was hearing it now from the small woman with the dark eyes and the maternal smile, speaking to the people of New Hampshire about hope._

_The auditorium, which had only been half-filled during the remarks, emptied quickly, leaving only a visibly weary politician, a handsome, blond-headed man who offered her a hand down off the stage, a short, unsmiling man who began speaking to her the moment she sat down, and Granny Lucas, who was scanning the seats until her eyes fell on Emma._

_Granny wended her way through to Emma in the back and sat in the empty folding chair beside her._

" _So?" she asked without bothering to say hello. "What did you think?"_

_What did she think, Emma wondered, watching Mary Margaret Blanchard-Nolan lean against her husband, nodding at whatever the other man was saying._

_She thought that Mary Margaret was extraordinary. She'd been asked about healthcare. She had expanded Medicare in her state, which meant a tax increase mostly seen by the wealthy and those who owned businesses. A man who ran a small farm that employed a handful of people had called her to the carpet for raising his costs. "Taking money from his pocket" he'd claimed._

_She hadn't backed down, Mary Margaret. She had owned the decision. She'd apologized to the man directly, and had told him that if he held it against her, she'd understand, but there were children in her state who had received medicine for colds this past winter who wouldn't have before. There were elderly people who had gone to sleep warm, who hadn't the previous winter. There was a woman who had received a wheelchair, a girl who had gotten prenatal care, and whole schools who had been given accurate sex education because she had raised a tax on that man, and for that she refused to apologize._

_Emma had been aghast. It was not a politician's answer- carefully bending the truth to show its best side. It had been unvarnished and clear and had felt like a kick to the gut._

" _I think she's the real thing," Emma whispered. "And if I have anything to say about it, she's going to be the next President of the United States."_

~?~?~?~?~

"Is there something I should be doing?" Killian asked as Zelena took a seat beside him, having returned from the White House. It had been hours since he'd arrived at the hospital, waiting with bated breath for word. "Something that Emma's office should be doing? Work I should be farming out?"

Zelena laid a hand on his arm. "I'm Deputy Chief of Staff, I'll manage it. Are you all right, Killian?"

"I-" he began, but was interrupted when the doctor re-entered the room.

"She's out of surgery," he said to the pair of them, the only two able to listen.

Jasmine, Elsa, and Belle had left together, communication staff back to the White House to begin managing the fallout of the night.

David had been taken to the President's side as soon as she woke from her anesthesia. Killian had heard that she was asking to be taken to Emma, though that had been impossible while she remained in surgery.

Mrs. Lucas and Leroy were asleep, heads cocked toward one another, faces relaxed as they hadn't been awake.

Killian shot to his feet. "Can I see her?" he asked, wobbling slightly with exhaustion and hunger- he hadn't slept in almost 48 hours, and hadn't eaten in 24.

The Doctor (was his name Whale?) nodded and gestured out the door.

"I'm going to call the White House to let them know," Zelena said to Killian. "I'll catch you up."

Killian nodded and followed the doctor alone into the antiseptic-smelling, fluorescent-lit halls. The Secret Service seemed to be everywhere. Even in the White House itself, it seemed there weren't this many Secret Service agents, and Killian wondered at them.

It hit him for the first time in hours: the President had been shot at. She had made it through, apparently largely unscathed, but still- the President had been attacked, of course the Secret Service were out in force. The FBI and CIA must be surrounding the city, all normal functions paused. The world was holding its breath now, waiting to find out what could possibly happen next.

Suddenly it was all wiped from his mind as he reached a window and saw her for the first time in hours. His world shrank down to only her- not the President, not the country, only Emma Swan, lying broken on a hospital bed.

She looked pale, her hair lank and tangled on the pillow (it had been twisted into an elegant knot when she'd left the White House that evening for the event), the circles under her eyes looked like bruises. He could barely see her face under the ventilator, but he could see the evidence that she didn't sleep enough- he was always telling her to get more sleep.

One hand was curled on the top of the sheet, and he could see it. Her nails looked dirty, and he frowned- Emma was careful about her nails. She didn't paint them, but she kept them clean and neat. He stared at her hand for a long moment when it came to him finally that it was dried blood in the beds of her nails and underneath the ends.

He wanted to be sick- had turned away to run down the hall- when a small hand laid itself on his shoulder.

"Madam President," he said, straightening in her presence. She wasn't wearing a hospital gown, but neither was she wearing the suit that she had gone to the museum in. She was in sweats and an old university sweatshirt- Harvard, just like Emma, though a few years ahead- and she leaned on an IV pole as she shuffled forward to look in on their girl.

"How is she?" the President asked, her voice low and slightly weak. Killian wondered if she should be out of bed, but didn't dare ask.

"I-" he began, and suddenly it was all too much- the President and Emma and the nation. All of the fears came in together and piled onto his shoulders and into his heart, and he felt his eyes flood. "I don't know," he sobbed.

He turned to go- she couldn't possibly want to speak to someone blubbering like a child, but her hand squeezed his arm, stopping him. He turned to look at her and, through his own tears he saw that her face was tracked with tears as well.

She leaned into him, weeping into his shoulder and they held each other up against their uncertainty.

~?~?~?~?~

_As she approached her office at the Blanchard-Nolan campaign headquarters in New Hampshire, Emma could hear her phone ringing and bit back a curse- her candidate didn't hold with strong language- at the idea of dealing with whoever was on the other end. She was surprised, then, to hear the ringing stop and a smooth, low voice speaking._

" _Emma Swan's office. No, I'm sorry, she's not in just now, may I take a message?"_

_It was rare to hear men's voices around the heavily-female campaign, other than Leroy, so Emma knew she'd remember if she'd heard this one before. She approached the door of her office silently and appraised the person standing with his back to her, looking at the calendar on her desk._

" _Emma will be available at 3:30 PM tomorrow, but doesn't have any time before that," the man was saying._

_He was tall and dark-haired, wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket. She couldn't see his face, but his jeans were filled by a nice butt and he didn't sound much older than Emma herself. She wouldn't place him older than 30._

" _Half an hour," he said, smoothly. "I'll let her know. Thank you." He hung up the phone, then turned and jumped to see Emma standing in the doorway._

" _Hi," Emma said, giving him a smile. "Who're you?"_

" _Killian Jones," he said, and Emma was obscurely impressed that he was planning to brazen it out. "You?"_

" _Emma Swan," she said, amused at the affect this information had on the man. He looked suddenly worried and ashamed._

" _Oh… right. Good to meet you," he extended a hand and gave her a smile that was very tense. "I'm your new assistant."_

" _Did I have an old assistant?" Emma asked, wondering how far this man would take the charade._

" _Possibly not," he said, dropping his hand. "I'm a volunteer. I was assigned to you."_

" _Oh? Who by?"_

" _Erm… Betsy?" he said, obviously not having spoken to the volunteer coordinator at all._

" _Margaret?" Emma offered._

" _Yes, her!"_

" _Yes, her," Emma repeated. "Well I should call her and let her know that I don't need an assistant." She reached for the phone, mostly to see how he'd respond to her calling his bluff._

" _Erm… well when I said I spoke to Margaret, I might have been… overstating things," Killian said, quickly._

_Emma sighed and entered her office, leaning a hip against the edge of the desk. "Sit," she said, nodding toward the chair._

_He sat._

" _Now, how about you be honest with me," Emma said, just to see if he would, "what are you doing here?"_

" _I want to work for the Nolan campaign," he said, quickly. "I drove here all the way from Boston because I want to help."_

" _When did your girlfriend break up with you?" Emma asked. When he stiffened, she knew she'd met her mark._

" _What makes you think-?" he began but Emma raised a hand._

" _I'm gonna tell you a little secret," she said, though it wasn't a secret at all. "I have… well… let's call it a superpower. I can tell when someone's lying to me, and you've barely spoken two words of truth since you told me your name. So how about you just cut that out and try being honest with me, okay?"_

_He stared at her for a moment, then seemed to collapse in on himself. "She was a med student," he said, staring at the floor. "I was supporting her through her residency and then…"_

" _She left you?" Emma guessed. "Someone with more money, maybe?"_

_The way he winced told her, again, that she'd guessed right, but he rallied quickly and gave her a smile that might have been charming had there been less pain behind it._

" _What makes you think she left me?"_

" _Look," Emma said, not dignifying that with an answer, "this is a political campaign, not a halfway house for broken hearts. I can't carry you- no one can. We haven't got that kind of time, not if we're going to win the White House."_

" _I don't need to be carried!" he said, quickly. "I don't need you to do anything special, just… let me help. I think I can help."_

" _Doing what?" Emma asked. She could feel herself wavering, knew Mary Margaret would want her to give this guy a shot, but she had to be firm. She was the practical face of the campaign, after all._

" _I'll answer phones, manage your calendar, carry your bags for you, if that's what you need. Please let me help. I… I really think I can be good at this."_

_Emma hesitated for a moment, looking at him. His eyes were blue, and so earnest that she had a hard time even thinking of saying 'no.'_

_Her phone rang, startling him into looking away, and by the time he'd met her eyes again, she'd decided. Mary Margaret's campaign was about hope and giving people a chance._

_Emma nodded toward the phone. "Go on," she said._

~?~?~?~?~

The light felt like a weight on Emma's eyes, but she knew she had to fight it. She had to open her eyes. There was something important-

The room was bright white and quiet, and everything in her ached. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to blink. It hurt to think.

She wanted to slip beneath the surface to sleep again, but the idea that there was something important here kept pushing against her. Her eyes traveled over the room. Nothing stood out until-

He was sitting in the chair beside her bed, head bowed so that all she could see was that rumpled, inky black hair.

"Ki-" she began, though it hurt to get even that far.

Though there was no voice behind the syllable, his head popped up, red-rimmed blue eyes found hers like magnets drawn to true north.

"Emma." He whispered her name like a prayer of thanksgiving. "Just can't stay out of trouble, can you?"

She watched his eyes fill with tears and wished, desperately, that she had the strength to reach for him.

"You're here," she whispered, with all of the energy she seemed to have left.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I came as fast as I could, Love. Didn't even stop for red lights."


End file.
